


All You Are and Will Become

by weshes



Category: Political Animals
Genre: Cute Dogs, Dating, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Happy Ending, Kissing, Little Bit Domestic, M/M, Mention of Past Suicide Attempt, Pancakes, Past Drug Addiction, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25534147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weshes/pseuds/weshes
Summary: Wherein TJ meets a handsome stranger, and falls in love (maybe) while remembering how to love himself again (definitely). Featuring dates that range from disaster to delightful, an emergency corgi, and awesome grandmothers behind the scenes.
Relationships: Thomas "T. J." Hammond/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	All You Are and Will Become

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innie/gifts).



Graduations were supposed to be a big deal - practical gifts, cakes, all your family assembled for the shindig - but it was different when you'd left two colleges in disgrace and had finished the third while working a regular job. When TJ got within striking distance of graduation, his instinct had been to plan a party, but instinct was where he always went wrong. He was two years sober, and he wasn't blowing it now. (No pun intended.) His family deserved a reward for holding their breath through the final stretch.

So instead, once the music degree was in the can and recorded respectably on paper, he gathered the core family for dinner at the Four Seasons - Mom and Dad, Doug and Anne, and Nana of course, looking perfect in a floor-length beaded ivory gown which caught the light from every angle. 

"You look too gorgeous for a glorified hotel restaurant, Nana," TJ whispered to her, as she ordered scotch on the rocks and settled back with a sigh. 

"Darling boy, everyone and everything in this town is a glorified something or other," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Except you, tonight - you're the real deal."

He'd been warming up for a while to the idea of being the kind of person who made his family proud, but it amazed him how the tiniest word of approval could thrill him, like sudden sunshine. "Thanks," he said, kissing her cheek. 

It was a good night, with his father's long-winded but funny toast to him and his mother's gaze resting on him, wistful and worried, like some part of her missed the days when he'd needed her to be the tough-love fixer in his life. He'd had to teach himself how to ignore that worry, or he'd respond to her scrutiny with nothing but emotion. It was getting easier these days, not reacting like a raw nerve, but he was still careful about it. 

He was conscious of Doug staring at him across the table while the waiters served chocolate cake for dessert, so he wasn't surprised when his brother pulled him into a hug as they stood to go, and said, "TJ, this is good, you did so good, but--"

"But don't fuck it up?" TJ said softly. "Nice, bro. Have a little faith." 

"I've had faith before," Doug said, though a pink flush was steadily rising on his cheeks.

"Well, I've never been a college graduate with a steady job before, so maybe I've earned a little trust?"

"Maybe." It wasn't a grudging admission, exactly; more like singed at the edges, a concession from someone who'd been burned before by the results of repeated trust. TJ understood. There was so much he was seeing clearly these days, and most of it made him sad for past-him, for his family, for the ways they'd gouged and doubted and betrayed each other until their reserves of goodwill were all but empty. 

TJ smiled, having forgiven all his family's protectiveness after the second time he landed in the hospital. "You wanna stick around a while, have a drink with me in the bar?"

"No thanks. Uh, maybe you should call it a night, too?"

"I'm going to have a booze-free beverage, Doug. Marinate in the joy of my achievement. And then I'm going home, I've got some recordings coming up to prep for." It sounded so responsible when he said it out loud, and the best part was, it was true - 33, sober, a college graduate, gainfully employed as a studio session musician and theory teacher, and his family hugging him goodbye without worried side glances. It was a good day. 

"Okay," Doug said, smiling, and there was the tiniest glimmer of faith. It was enough. 

The bar was practically deserted - piano music wafted up from the corner, played at a glacial pace, and with indifference. TJ could absolutely do better, if he wasn't averse to attracting attention. He took a corner seat at the far end of the bar instead, and lifted a finger to catch the bartender's attention. "Tonic water with lime," he said, flashing a flirty smile. The guy behind the bar winked at him, and made a show of squeezing the lime with a flourish and sliding the tumbler over to him. 

"Wow, that is some smile." TJ looked to the speaker on his right, and a tall man with deep brown eyes and a glass in his hand slid into the bar chair next to his. "Does it produce results? Like, free drinks from mesmerized bartenders?"

"Natural charm, I'll have you know," TJ said, always ready to flirt with anyone that hot. "Lots of practice." 

"Yeah, so your grandmother told me when I took the job." At TJ's lifted eyebrow, the extremely attractive stranger said, "I figured I might as well get a drink and come clean, at the same time."

"Let me guess. You're supposed to be my bodyguard?"

"One night only. Your mother called in a favor from a friend who knew I was looking for short-term gigs. Said I was supposed to be unobtrusive, blend in with the wallpaper." 

"Uh-huh. Well, one night stand, you definitely do not blend in with the wallpaper," TJ said, and was rewarded with a slow smile from the handsome, under-dressed stranger - not that there was anything wrong with black jeans and a casual jacket when they looked that good stretched over a toned body. "So, are you here to keep me from scoping out a handy dealer?"

"Nope. Strictly protection detail. Graduations are high-profile hard target events when you're the president's son."

"Ex-president." 

"Polls say round two is coming." 

"My mother is the personification of try, try again. You keep up with politics?"

"Only when it impacts how I do my job." The stranger stuck out his hand. "Matt Almeda." 

TJ shook his hand, a slow smile creeping over his face at the strong grip. "Is it weird for you, introducing yourself to someone you already know?"

"I don't actually know you," Matt said. He held onto TJ's hand a moment longer, as he added, "We haven't been properly introduced." 

"Okay then. I'm TJ." 

"Hi, TJ." Matt had dimples to go with his brief smile, which was totally unfair. 

"Hi." TJ took a sip of his drink, noting how Matt didn't seem to want to look away, and said, "You met Nana." 

"She's a force of nature, that one." Matt took a sip of his whiskey. "I have one of those, too. _Mi abuelita_ , my granny who raised me, always shouting at me from every room in the house except the one I was in. 'Clean up your mess, Mateo! You are a very messy boy!' I think she thought she could shout me into obedience." 

"Did it work?" 

"Never. Didn't make me any better at taking orders later in life, either." 

"Orders? - wait, you're military?" 

"Navy - former Navy," Matt amended. "I'm a newly minted civilian. Got myself a job lined up, though. Other than watching your six." 

"Good to know," TJ said easily. He could see it, now - the posture, the way Matt moved, the shape he was in. "Intel? Pentagon?" 

"Nothing that exciting. Construction work by day," Matt said. "Maybe some side gigs in security, as you may have noticed. Reserve duty once in a while." 

They made small talk about favorite bar snacks and the godawful piano player in the bar for a while as TJ nursed his drink and looked over his temporary protection detail. Broad shoulders, and his suit jacket fit great stretched over them. Crisp white shirt against brown skin, casual but impeccable; professional, but not stiff. An expensive-looking watch, one of those kind that looked like it might open up and start fixing appliances for its owner. A tie that was slightly askew, like maybe he'd forgotten altogether that he was supposed to leave it on. 

TJ's fingers itched to loop themselves through that loose knot and shift the tie around until it slipped away from Matt's throat. 

"So how long have you been a civilian?" TJ asked, wrenching his thoughts away from how he'd like to debauch his bodyguard. 

"Couple of months. Was staying with my sis, but just got my own apartment." Matt shook his head. "It's pretty weird, buying furniture and planning to stay put."

"Weird good, or...?"

"Yeah. It's nice, having a home base. And I'm finding compelling reasons to stick around." Their eyes met again, and TJ had that warm, dangerous feeling, that prickle at the base of his spine. It had been a while since he trusted himself to try, but maybe...

He cleared his throat, and said, "So, I know you're working, and I definitely wouldn't want to interfere with that, but...maybe sometime we could get together."

"Yeah?" Matt took a sip of his whiskey, and added, "Once my important guard dog duties have been discharged." 

"Maybe we can meet up for breakfast," TJ said, leaning closer. 

A wide smile broke over Matt's face, and TJ had thought he was handsome before, but the smile lit him up - warm, confident, brilliant around his smooth edges. "I was thinking more like, let's meet up for dinner somewhere soon. As in, tomorrow."

"Like, a date?" TJ blinked at him. 

"Exactly like a date." Matt's grin widened, and shit, shitshit, those were butterflies in TJ's stomach - Monarch-sized, very excited - signaling a feeling he hadn't had in a long time. 

He made his voice casual when he said, "Okay, sure. You have a place in mind?"

"Not yet, but I'll think of something. If you want to give me your number." He slipped his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and handed it to TJ. This part, at least, was familiar; he typed his cell number in and handed the phone back, and Matt sent a quick text, which vibrated in TJ's pocket. "And now you have mine. I'll text you about time and place in the morning." 

"Sounds great." A night out at a restaurant wasn't too original as first dates went, but TJ had very little to compare it to; he'd started sleeping with Secret Service agents when he was sixteen, and after that he'd more or less skipped picnics and afternoon matinees in favor of going straight to blow and anonymous sex. He chugged the rest of his drink, and then pushed the empty glass back to the bartender with one finger. "One's my limit. What happens if I go home now? Do you go with me?"

"I sure do," Matt said cheerfully. "And then I sit in a cramped car all night, drinking cold coffee and staring forlornly at your townhouse while earning a truly obscene amount of money."

"Well, I wasn't planning on crying about your lost sleep," TJ said, shaking his head. "Mom at least pays well."

"Understatement." Matt tossed back the rest of his drink, and then eyed TJ head, to toe, and back to his eyes again. "You must be pretty precious to them," he said, and hopped off the chair. "After you, Prince Hammond."

"You can cut that shit out right now," TJ said, but he was already clambering down and smoothing his jacket. A well-honed instinct let him know that Matt was totally checking out his ass all the way out to the valet stand. It made him shiver, made him glance back over his shoulder to catch Matt's eye and smile. 

All that night, TJ tossed and turned in his wrinkled sheets, thinking about Matt the Handsome Former Navy Guy downstairs in the car parked in front of the building, eyes up and trained on the space TJ occupied. 

He felt safer than he'd felt in years. He also didn't sleep a wink. 

~~

First dates, in TJ's experience, were mythical. He'd never really had one. Mostly he had scrounged his hook-ups online (and anonymously) - get in and get out quickly, before they had a chance to take pictures or steal things out of his drawers to sell on eBay. Whenever it had been more than that, it had always gone wrong, somehow. (There were reasons he had disavowed December altogether.) 

So there were details to think about - what to wear? It had always been a contest to see how fast he could get his clothes off, not a marathon of someone staring at his fashion choices for hours a time. He was tempted to FaceTime Doug and ask him, but he was a grown man who could choose his own wardrobe, and he hadn't been laid in...well, weeks at least; he refused to hear the little voice whispering _months, TJ! Months!_

There was a sleek cobalt-blue button down at the back of the closet which went well with his black tailored trousers - those were still in the plastic from the dry cleaner's. He left a button or two open at his throat, because he had it on good authority he had a kissable throat, and he desperately wanted to test that theory with Matt. Extra deodorant, check; a softly cedar-scented brand of aftershave, check. Nice-ish watch...that took some searching, but he found it in the bathroom drawer. He ran his fingers through his hair and was out the door, too early, but unable to sit still any longer.

They'd agreed to meet at a respectable older restaurant far enough out of the way that it might take a while for the paparazzi to notice them - not a hole in the wall, but the silverware had some bumps and dings, and the water glasses didn't quite match. It was perfect, though, because there was not a single politician in sight. TJ ordered a Shirley Temple just to watch Matt throw back his head and laugh; TJ was attracted to all that happiness - possibly he was also doomed, but meanwhile he was completely content to sip his grenadine-laced ginger ale and grin right back. 

"Hey, _you_ ordered a Coke," TJ pointed out, debating with himself whether it would be ridiculous to do that tongue thing with the cherry stem, or if maybe he should actually try to behave himself for a couple hours. 

"Yeah, I want to stay sober for this." Matt twirled his glass, ice clinking around all over the place in his soda, and when TJ met his eyes, Matt was focused only on him, the menu still closed under his hand. 

TJ exhaled, his breath a little shaky, and looked up at the chandelier, twinkling with fairy lights wrapped around its bulky and ancient frame - like someone wanted to coax it out of the past, and into the modern era. "I am completely terrible at small talk," he said, "despite my charming smile. Never had much use for it when I was younger."

Matt raised his eyebrows. "Not even to flirt?"

"Oh, I had a whole repertoire for that, but the thing is, you can use all that over and over. Same song, infinite variations." TJ grabbed one of the rolls from the basket in the center of the table and pointed at Matt with it. "I just don't know any new songs."

"That's my cue," Matt said. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, very serious, intent, and said, "What's your sign?"

"Come on," TJ laughed, and his knife slipped as he was buttering his roll, and there was butter all over his fingers. He sputtered and set the knife down to get his napkin, but Matt was quicker. He took TJ's wrist gently and pulled him forward, thumb over TJ's rapidly beating pulse. 

"All the jokes I could make about appetizers, and delicious treats served up on silver platters, but I really want you to appreciate my restraint," he said. He dipped his own napkin in his ice water, and wiped each of TJ's buttery fingers carefully. TJ watched him, and just the fact that Matt could tell his pulse was racing made it go a little faster; his eager heart propelled a slow shiver of desire down his spine. 

"There you go," Matt said, and stroked his thumb over TJ's wrist, and touched each of his un-buttered fingers in turn, fingertip to fingertip, lingering. 

They moved on to salads, and then to risotto with mushrooms for TJ, and steak with Brussel sprouts for Matt. All the while, they talked about Matt's time in the Navy (what he could share of it), and TJ's penchant for taking on terrible students who would never pass musical theory classes, absent TJ's deep well of tutorial understanding and patience. The conversation flowed easily, and TJ could feel Matt's touch on his skin, a promise of where this might be headed, if he was careful. 

It was over dessert that TJ realized he could never be careful enough. 

"I mean, being in the public eye is both a blessing and a curse," he said, poking at a fancy caramel bar thing that was too hard to actually bite into. He leaned over and scooped up a tiny bite of Matt's cheesecake, and Matt pushed the plate closer to him with a smile. "Reporters and photographers are in my face all the time, but on the plus side, I also don't have to spent a lot of time explaining all my embarrassing qualities to people I've just met." 

"Like what?" Matt said, taking another bite of cheesecake. Neutral. Interested. 

Unaware. 

A cold sweat broke out on TJ's lip, and he looked down at his dessert, mustering up a thin smile. "Come on, everyone has heard about my issues. They were way more entertaining than anything my parents were up to."

"Listen, I was deployed in a hot sand pile for a while, and then I was underwater for a couple of years cooling off from the desert, and then I was running all around the world trying not to get killed...I didn't have any time to keep up with political gossip. Even the cute side of it." Matt polished off the cheesecake and frowned sadly at the plate, as if he could magically make the whole thing reappear to be eaten all over again. 

"Seriously?" TJ heard himself say, and Matt nodded, looking fondly at him. 

"Yeah, man. I really do want to know all about you. I'm looking forward to hearing about your shenanigans."

Those butterflies in TJ's stomach came to a slow, sad stop. The idea of telling Matt all the things he'd tried so hard to leave behind - the drugs, the suicide attempt, the sleeping with married men, all of it - made his stomach turn over. _I can't, I can't. Once he really sees me, he'll hate me._

For a moment, all he wanted to do was to leave, text his old dealer and pick up some coke, snort it all and slip into blissful ignorance again, pretend like there wasn't anything good here he'd be missing - pretend, for a moment, like Matt already knew and didn't care. All those impossible states of being that weren't real, that could never be real. 

"TJ?" Matt's voice, laced with concern; TJ looked up and saw the waiter looking at him, expectantly. 

"What?" 

"Did you want some coffee, or-"

"Cognac," TJ said. "Double." 

Now Matt was looking at him with alarm, because what kind of loser orders a double after-dinner drink? But there was no point, was there. After this, they'd go their separate ways. There just...wasn't any way to get past it; his family had proven that to him time and again. So why start down the road?

The small talk went from warm and funny to awkward and weighted. TJ stared at the little glass of tempting cognac without touching it, because he wasn't going to make a mistake now, he _wasn't._

"Are you okay?" Matt asked, as TJ was fishing his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up his sponsor Amy's contact, texted _You around_? and got back a quick reply: _sure am, call me!_

"Yeah, sure, it's, um, my brother is texting me, he's saying he needs me to call. Some family thing. I have a lot of family things," TJ said, making a smile that felt more like a grimace. "I'm - sorry, I really should - I'm sure this is going to-" He was already up and moving, dropping his napkin on the floor, wanting so much to lean into the hug Matt was giving him, warm and inviting and kind. 

"Anything I can do?" he asked, squeezing TJ's shoulders, and tears sprang to TJ's eyes because this could have been so good, if only-

"No, sorry, I'll, how about if I text you tomorrow? Okay? Thanks for this, it was really nice, it was -" TJ pulled away, his phone in his hand like an awkward prop. "Tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure," Matt said, and wariness had crept into his expression, so TJ ran away as fast as he could, out into the night and home, where he could curl up in bed and call Amy to keep him on track, and try to forget that warm spark of happiness he'd felt for all of a day. 

~~

There were a few texts from Matt the next day, of course - and two calls, with sweet, concerned messages. 

"Hey TJ, call me? I'm kind of worried about you." 

"Hey TJ, it's Matt, I'm...did I say something? I thought that we...Could you just call me? Thanks."

_I really like you. Please call._

He turned off his phone and stuck it in the kitchen drawer. Then he went to a meeting and got himself centered, so he could sit with his students through some determinedly awful lessons, and mope around playing the piano, for a couple days. 

The second day after their date, he watched some mindless TV, thinking mournfully about their one almost-perfect dinner. There was a hollow sadness in knowing he'd probably hurt Matt, and hadn't meant to. There would be someone who would be great for Matt, someone who would be open and easy, and...TJ couldn't think about that. It wasn't fair to hold out hope of hanging onto someone he'd run out on.

He stared at random late-night comedy, not hearing a word of it, until he fell into an exhausted sleep.

Early in the morning of the third day, the doorbell rang while TJ was brushing his teeth. He spit and rinsed, and shuffled down the hall expecting Doug to be outside with his grumpy pants on. He always got pissy when TJ ignored his calls. 

But no. On his doorstep was an annoyed corgi, and the human it had dragged along at the end of the leash. 

"Hello," Matt said. He had sunglasses on, and he looked unfairly handsome in cargo pants and an ancient-looking Aerosmith T-shirt. 

"Uh," TJ said intelligently. He was shirtless, with bedhead, and his sweatpants were not fit for human dignity, but it was really too late to hide any of that. "You, uh."

"We were supposed to be having breakfast by now," Matt said reasonably. "Also, I'm not a stalker. I worked for you for a night and knew your address, remember?"

"You worked for my mother," TJ said, staring at the stubby, round, dog-shaped fluffball, which appeared to be glaring at him. 

"It's too early for semantics. Let us in, I brought pancakes with fruit and I'm hungry."

"Well in that case." TJ stepped aside, and Matt moved right into his space like he owned it, side-eyeing TJ on the way in. He smelled of fresh sweat and soap, and TJ watched as he set the take-out containers on the counter, bent down to take the dog off its leash, and went to work rummaging around TJ's kitchen for silverware and plates. 

The dog looked up skeptically at TJ, as if to say, _you're unworthy of our attention, but I'll pretend for long enough that it won't seem rude to the human._

"She's not mine," Matt said. At that, the dog trotted over to him adorably and barked, and TJ smiled. 

"Does she know that?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "Her name's Darwin and she's my sister's. She imprinted on me when she was a puppy or something. It was hard on her when I was deployed."

Bemused, TJ scratched his eyebrow and then noticed Darwin was now sitting at his feet, stealthy, like a furry ninja. He gave up and sat down on the floor, and Darwin climbed right into his lap like it was her right and he'd been really late in providing this service. "How'd she get her name, anyway? Darwin like the X-Men?"

"Ha, no. More like, she was queen of the litter, and she rules anyplace I ever take her...excuse me, anyplace my sister takes her...and so she's clearly always the top dog in the room. Also she's my secret weapon when I'm sad, I borrow her from my sister in emotional emergencies." The scent of pancakes and apples filled the living room - along with beeps from the microwave - and tears unexpectedly welled up in TJ's eyes. He wiped a hand over his face. Darwin assisted by licking his chin. 

"Come eat at the table like a civilized person," Matt said, appearing beside the table with two plates. "Want something to drink?"

"That's my line - being the host and all that." TJ shoved up from the floor with one last scritch for Darwin. 

"You missed your cue. I think we both missed some cues, but you know. Have a pancake first." Matt set both plates down, with silverware, and dug syrup packets out of his sweatshirt pockets. "By the way, packaged syrup is totally classy, and they don't leave syrup rings on the table, so there's that." 

"You think of everything," TJ said, his voice a little choked. Matt looked at him, and a second later, was hugging him, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it squeeze around TJ's shoulders before he peeled away and turned back to the kitchen to appropriate TJ's coffeemaker. 

They ate the delicious fluffy pancakes, rationing and sharing their syrup packets, while Darwin sat on TJ's bare feet like a fuzzy foot-warmer. It was a comfortable silence, and even though various spikes of shame and guilt were firing in TJ's brain, Matt's warm smile short-circuited them each time. "This is really nice," TJ said, sipping the extremely strong coffee he hadn't made. "Thanks for...bringing breakfast."

"I want you well-nourished for what's coming next. No, don't give me that look - that one," Matt added, when TJ started to push back from the table. "Hey. I brought pancakes, hear me out, okay?"

TJ swallowed, and nodded, and sat still, which might have been the hardest thing he'd ever done. 

"So, the way you left, I could tell I'd screwed up, and I'm sorry." Matt took a deep breath and waved a hand at TJ when he started to speak. "Nobody wants to be interrogated about their past on a first date. Also, like any normal human being, I have the capability to type Google into my phone and look up your name." 

"And down the rabbit hole you went," TJ said, hot anger flaring in his belly. "That's a good time, right? Reading up on all the fuck-ups?"

"I wouldn't know, I stopped before I got further than the article that said you almost died of anaphylactic shock a couple years ago. I thought to myself, I could have lost you before I even knew you, and how unfair would that have been? And then I thought, I don't really want to know anything you don't think is important enough to tell me." 

"And I'm supposed to believe you just...stopped?"

"It's the truth," Matt said, arms folded on the table. He met TJ's gaze steadily, and TJ knew it was, that someone doesn't bring breakfast and, then take _care_ of you if they are the kind of person who wallows in years-old gossip. 

"I'm sorry too," TJ said, holding Matt's gaze. "I...there's a lot to tell. Which I'm sure you guessed. I got overwhelmed, thinking about having to relive those times with someone who thinks I'm a normal guy."

"You are definitely not a normal guy," Matt said, grinning. "You're smoking hot, and you come from a political dynasty, and you have stupid cute hair in the morning. So let's start there. Because," Matt said, lowering his voice and leaning in close, "I was crazy about you the minute I laid eyes on you, and I'm thinking, maybe once I know all your secrets, I'll like you even more. How about that?" He sat back with a little flourish, triumphant, and TJ's annoying, cynical heart gave a lurch in Matt's direction. 

"Nobody's ever brought me breakfast before," he said, looking helplessly down at the syrupy plate. 

"Just wait til I do the dishes, you're going to love the sexy way I soap up the sink." 

TJ burst out laughing, and then Matt was up from the table, and he had TJ in his arms, and their first kiss tasted like plastic syrup and apple. In that moment, TJ forgot to be scared about what might go wrong. 

~~

DC could only really keep any kind of secret for a minute or two, so every day TJ was able to keep this new relationship under the radar was a miracle. They dated for eight weeks - though most of the "dating" moved to the bedroom in week two, and stayed there for a week or so, while they uncovered each other and figured out how to move together, how to touch each other. 

Sometimes, when Matt drew his hands down TJ's body, his mouth hot against TJ's skin, TJ began to remember what it was like to feel safe enough to be in love. 

They learned about each other in other ways, too - Matt confessed his fondness for Atlantic City one night when a Sinatra tune popped up in some show they were watching, and that led to a game of strip poker on the living room floor. 

"Texas hold-'em is the only valid variation of poker," Matt said, grinning while TJ stared confused at the face-up card - turn? Flop? River? Who could tell? TJ would've sworn there was a haze of cigarette smoke around Matt's head; he had the look of a poker shark. A very predatory, competitive poker shark. 

As it turned out, TJ was terrible at poker, but that was okay because he didn't have to lose many games before Matt got distracted by all that skin being revealed. 

"I can imagine you," Matt said, slowly pushing TJ's shirt aside to kiss his ticklish ribs, "under all those glittering lights on the boardwalk, being beautiful." 

"I fade out under bright light," TJ said quietly. 

Matt raised his head and locked that intense stare of his on TJ, then leaned up to kiss him softly. "You're the brightest thing I see," he answered, and it should have been corny, it was sappy and ridiculous, and so TJ kissed him before he said something equally goofy he might be sorry for, later. 

They took a drive into Virginia in Matt's truck, and stopped at a run-down miniature golf place to play a game. TJ'd never tried it before, and he kicked Matt's ass without even trying hard. "Excellent hand-eye coordination," he said smugly, while Matt rolled his eyes and bowed to TJ's superior skill. There was a thrill in winning, but a bigger thrill in knowing Matt didn't care at all, that there were a thousand things Matt could do better, that they weren't competing. 

Sometimes Matt would drag himself to TJ's after a day of standing in the hot sun framing houses, and take advantage of a long shower and sandwiches TJ ordered from the deli a few miles down the road. He tended to be subdued those days, leaning into TJ's touch like a cat. He'd stretch out on TJ's living room floor and read, only to fall asleep with the book splayed open on his chest.

TJ stretched out beside him one evening and slid the book out from beneath Matt's hand, only to discover a volume of dense, lush poetry, the kind of verse that made colors come into his mind the same as music sometimes did, images of silvered trees and magenta skies.

There were so many facets to Matt, puzzles unfolding in exquisite ways, and TJ had only known him a few short weeks. He turned his head to watch Matt dozing, thinking about the balance of strength and power and kindness he'd carried around inside him when he'd been fighting wars people like TJ's family couldn't stop starting.

"I wasn't done with that," Matt said softly, his voice gruff with sleep, his eyes half-lidded and full of affection. TJ set it back on Matt's chest with an apology kiss, and Matt moved it off to the side, to make room for TJ in his arms instead.

Then there was the night TJ sat down to play love songs on the piano, and Matt sat down with him, and surprised TJ by being able to pick out the melody and play. "Hidden talents," he said, smiling, shy, his head ducked down, and TJ cupped his chin, turned his face back for a kiss, because he wasn't afraid to share the music TJ loved with him. "Just don't ask me to sing, I can't carry a tune," Matt murmured, while TJ was unbuckling his belt and getting his mouth on Matt's beautiful, hard dick. 

They were six weeks together, curled up on Matt's couch and half-asleep one night, when TJ decided there was no point in keeping the big secret any longer. He'd taken Matt's word for it, that he hadn't gone looking for dirt about TJ's sordid past, but there was always a chance he'd hear about it or stumble on it. If Matt was going to start withdrawing slowly, afraid of being with someone so unstable, TJ knew he'd be able to handle it better if he could see it happening. They'd been together long enough; TJ was starting to know Matt's moods, his body language, like they'd known each other all their lives. 

So he sat up, and put his back against the overstuffed arm of Matt's couch, a little shaky, but determined. Matt pulled TJ's feet into his lap. "What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing the arch of TJ's left foot. TJ smiled a little, because sometimes he forgot - this went both ways, and Matt was reading him as well as TJ could read Matt. 

He took a deep breath, and then another, and formed the words carefully, and then he let them go: "I tried to kill myself, a few years ago. I was...in a bad place. Alone. Really hurt. I was let down by someone I trusted. Someone I loved." Matt's hands went still, but all his attention was on TJ, which gave him the courage to go on. "It was...I didn't...I didn't know how to take that kind of blow. I've been scared of what would happen, if I tried again."

There was so much more he wanted to say - an explanation, of what it had been like, loving Shawn and then being shoved away like a useless thing when Shawn felt his future threatened by that love. A description, of what it had been like to be so cold and empty, to feel so much and not know where to put all that desperation. A truth - that he hadn't even imagined he could allow himself to love someone again that way, and now it was happening, and he wanted to believe he was harder now, but he knew himself well, and he wasn't. 

Matt held out his hand, and TJ took it. Matt drew him closer, and TJ shifted his legs, let himself be pulled across the couch to straddle Matt's thighs. Matt put his arms around TJ; TJ settled forward into his embrace, and dropped his forehead onto Matt's shoulder. 

"When you're ready," Matt said, one hand stroking through TJ's hair, "I want to meet your mom and dad for real, not like a job interview. I want you to meet the guys I served with, even though they're all macho assholes, but I love 'em, and they'll love you. I want you to try my granny's _migas_ , and feed you her _croquetas de Jamón_ until you're begging her to stop spoiling you. Because she's going to spoil you, I guarantee you - I have never brought a boy home for her to fuss over, til now." 

Every word sank into TJ's skin, down into his bones, into those fearful places he had been hoping to heal. He shook his head, hiding his face against Matt's shirt, and then rose up to cradle Matt's face in his hands, to kiss him. Matt's eyes traced over TJ's face, and he said, "I want you, TJ. Do you want me?"

He couldn't speak, so he nodded, and that was enough. 

Matt lifted the hem of TJ's T-shirt, pulled it over his head; TJ returned the favor with Matt's hoodie. He was drowning in the sensation of being wanted, the unequivocal joy of it, as Matt laid him out carefully on the couch, always careful, with every part of him. 

There'd been so many barriers between TJ and the world, since Shawn - somehow, Matt seemed to see them all, and know exactly how to crack through them. He kissed his way down TJ's body slowly, smiling as TJ squirmed under the attention. "Quit wiggling," he said with a smile, as he undressed first TJ, then himself. They negotiated through touch, and then Matt's mouth was on him, slow, thorough - hands on TJ's hips, thumbs stroking his hipbones, slowly. TJ stroked every part of Matt's skin he could reach, and soon enough he was falling apart, hands flat on Matt's shoulders, trying to breathe, just breathe, back arched and eyes closed, and Matt everywhere around him. 

By the time Matt slid inside him, TJ was half out of his mind, getting hard again by watching Matt's face, and the way his body moved. "TJ," Matt said, and kissed him, over and over, until his deep thrusts slowed to a stop, and he shuddered, coming inside TJ. The feel of it was enough to send TJ over the edge again, his whole being centered on where they were joined. 

He brought his hands to Matt's face and drew him close, kissed him, breathed with him. Matt whispered, "You okay?" It had always seemed like a rhetorical question before when TJ'd been with other guys, but not this time. 

"Getting there," he said, kissing Matt's face, and his mouth, and the edge of his collarbone, as Matt settled in close. They were a mess, and TJ didn't care at all; he was light and he was heavy at the same time, both grounded and totally free.

~~

Eight weeks together, and Matt hadn't shown any signs of fleeing since the night TJ'd told him the worst thing he'd ever done. They were solidly in the realm of a real relationship now, so TJ'd decided: they were going to dinner at Mom's house Sunday, and Dad would be there, and it was probably going to be a goddamned disaster, but they'd do it together. That had been the missing piece all along, and yet there was still some part of TJ that doubted, and just couldn't believe. 

For instance, he'd been keeping little to-do lists on his phone, full of misspelled reminders to himself about getting groceries and paying his mortgage. Sometimes other things crept in there, too - half-finished voice-dictated lists, and somehow most of them were about Matt. Like the note called 'reminder about relationship':

1\. Don't fuck it up  
2\. Don't fuck it up, seriously  
3\. He's the best thing that ever happened to me, don't fuck it up  
4\. Also he's hot, so don't fuck it up

He showed it to Matt one night as they were getting ready for bed at TJ's, which was the latest funny twist in things - staying overnight, and the next day, and another night, and possessions accumulating at their respective places, like they each belonged in the other's space. Anyway, if they were going to tell the whole truth to each other, sharing doubts was an easy way to let it happen. 

Matt walked around to his usual side of the bed (a thing that still made TJ stop in his tracks every time it happened) and flopped down, still reading the phone. "Are you in my head?" he asked. He leaned across the bed and slid the phone onto TJ's nightstand, pointing to the list. "Did you pluck that list out of my brain while I was sleeping and write it down?"

"What? No." TJ frowned. He crawled into bed beside Matt. "Why would you be worrying about fucking this up? I'm a sure thing, ask around." 

"No," Matt said. He slid an arm around TJ and pulled him close, so their bodies were touching shoulder to toes, and TJ shivered, and bit his lip. "First of all, I do not want to know anyone else's opinion about you, because if I don't like what I hear I'll have to have a stern talk with them. And secondly, you need to value yourself more." Matt rubbed the frown between TJ's eyes, until he sighed and forced himself to relax. "Hey, I worry because this is good right now, and I haven't ever really tried being anybody's boyfriend - you know, that was on the down-low in my former occupation - and I might suck at it." 

"Don't worry, I've never tried having a boyfriend either." TJ smiled, and then his smile faltered, and he said, "That's not really true. I did try it, the once. But it was in secret, and...I haven't told you that whole story. But you already know how it ended."

Matt didn't take the bait. "You should tell me about that in about ten years," he said, pressing a soft kiss to TJ's parted lips. "When you know what it's like, having a boyfriend who sticks around." 

"So if you could have written that list - does that mean you think I'm hot?" TJ said, smiling into those kisses. 

"If I wrote that list, I probably would have said sexy as fuck, and sweet, and kind, and funny. Also hot," Matt added, grinning into TJ's soft laughter. "You think I'm hot, tho?"

"So hot." TJ slung his leg over Matt's hip, and they wrestled around for a minute, just to have their hands on each other. Eventually they settled down, Matt's head on TJ's chest, his hand flat on TJ's stomach, and TJ's arm around his shoulders. After a second of enjoying being close to him, TJ said, "I'm sorry it's taking me a while to get to all those stories I promised you." 

"Well, let's review what I've found out so far," Matt said. "I know you love your family, and would do anything for them. I know you're an addict in recovery. I know you work hard, and you've achieved amazing things. You like every type of Indian curry, and when you're stressed out you eat disgusting cheese and potato chip sandwiches, lord knows why. And you are infinitely turned on by old Twilight Zone reruns."

"Not turned on," TJ said, hanging on to the one tiny correction, because he was drowning under the weight of being seen, being _known_. "Wrong choice of words."

"Okay," Matt said, smiling. "Deliriously happy, then."

"You don't know, though," TJ said. "How I can hurt you. How...how mostly everything I've touched, I've ruined, including my own life, up 'til this year." 

Matt took TJ's hand into his own, and pressed TJ's fingertips against his lips. "I know a thing or two about making my hands into weapons," he said softly. "You can't hurt me." 

"Jesus Christ, you're infuriating. I'm trying to tell you, I'm a mess. I'm always a mess. I fuck things up. I...God!" He threw his arms out to the side, and Matt sat up smoothly, then twisted to the side to straddle TJ's hips. 

"I don't scare," Matt said. "I don't give a fuck how much of a mess you were, because people are messy. I know what it's like to be a fucking disaster; I almost drank myself to death after missions a dozen times, and not in the fun way. It got so bad, I almost got sent home. Guess what? I got my shit together, and after a while, I forgave myself. Why would I hold you to a higher standard?"

TJ stared up at him, because this was new information, to be carefully filed away for future discussion, but also - the glimmer of an idea had occurred to him: Matt would not be scared away by his TJ-ness. 

And then an even more frightening idea: the only people in his life that had applied to, up until that moment, were the ones related to him by blood. 

"I know all these things about you," Matt said, "but you know what I love even more? I love that your future's open, now. That you have no idea what comes next."

"That's the problem. Infinite opportunities to fuck up." 

"Doesn't matter. I guess if I can love all you are now, I've got a good shot at loving everything you turn out to be." 

It was like his throat was closing, the world narrowing; love was the portent of disaster. Love meant someone was about to run away. Love-

"Hey, no," Matt said, one hand on TJ's chest. "Don't panic."

"I'm...it's not panic," TJ said, a little desperate. "I'm...re-evaluating." 

"You'll get used to it," Matt said solemnly. He patted TJ's shoulder, then kissed him thoroughly and sprawled out beside him in the bed. "Sleep on it. I promise, you'll feel better in the morning. Maybe you'll feel like writing a new list." 

"Maybe," TJ murmured. He turned his head to look at Matt, who was already snuggled down, eyes closed, warm and comfortable in TJ's bed. 

It was strange to think that was never going back to who he used to be, before everything - the drugs, the depression, the heartbreak. But maybe that was okay. Necessary, even. Maybe he didn't have to remember who he was before, for his life to stitch itself into a solid whole. 

He curled up against Matt, his head on Matt's back, so he could look out the tall windows. Matt chuckled sleepily; it rumbled through his chest to his back, and TJ loved him a little more, because he could. It would be all right. 

As his eyes drifted shut, he thought about having all the people he loved in one room for dinner, and smiled to think of Matt and his mom - or Matt's grandma and Nana, eventually - going toe to toe. The idea that TJ had found someone capable of that...even the impossible was possible now. 

They would find their way through it, together.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I still have a lot of feelings about TJ being happy, falling in love, and loving himself again. Thank you innie for making the request that gave me this chance to write that for you!


End file.
